


Form 42.3 || Living Arrangements - Protection Detail

by Karijn



Series: A family of bones [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: But he helps so it's fine, Implied Mpreg, Implied Relationships, M/M, Multi, Percinnamon Roll, The new OC is Satan, no actual sex in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:44:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karijn/pseuds/Karijn
Summary: The Procedural Archives Department is Hell and the Head Archivist is Satan.Or, Percival Graves will not bet anymore on anything again. Ever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's best if you read Bigger Thank These Bones before reading this one or it won't make much sense.

The Procedural Archives were located on Floor 3 of the MACUSA building, and they were the only floor of the complex not to have any windows and to be completely lit by candlelight. Its workers claimed it was to reduce the light exposition of the documents and preserve the ink through time but Director of Magical Security Percival Graves begged to differ.

As a Division Head he knew perfectly well that magical ink was charmed to withstand much more than sunlight.

The long, narrow corridors were almost impossible to navigate without a guide and the dusty darkness made it an unwelcoming place for anyone aside from those who preferred the company of books instead of people.

"Director Graves" stated the old, white man at the desk, not raising his gaze from the papers in front of him.

Head Archivist Gerald Bernstein already looked like an old parchment when Graves had started his internship at MACUSA 21 years before and yet, he hadn't changed a bit. Cranky, dismissive of most social customs and always anally pedantic over every mouse-mail that came into his department.

A summon by him, in the heart of the Archive, was more feared than a call from Picquery, but Graves had an additional reason to be uneasy about the meeting.

 

"I received your notice," said Graves with an even voice.

 

The silence stretched for a couple of minutes before the man sitting turned a yellowed page and then raised his grey eyes on the Auror.

"Forms 42.3 and 6/23.1."

Another stretch of silence followed and Graves restrained from sighing.

He had informed his lovers about submitting those forms and both were quite enthusiastic about the news. Any mistake in filling them out could mean months of wait to file them again. Then more time to get the proper authorizations for the Graviditate Spell procedure, the mediwizard's evaluation, getting the actual procedure done...

Even thinking positively, they were looking at nearly an year of wait before everything could be set up for a pregnancy. And then, you were not always so lucky to get a baby on the first try and Graves wasn't getting any younger.

(Newt and Credence had been adamant in him being the carrier and he quite liked the idea as well, but the sex after arguing about this was always so wild and fulfilling. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them.)

"The changes have been approved and the Forms correctly filed," said the old man, and the penetrating gaze went back down to his papers.

_What?_

March was coming closer, the trimester's reports were waiting to be written, along with the training projects, the budgets' forecasts and another ton of paperwork Graves definitely didn't look forward to do, and Bernstein had him enter his maze-like department for this? Isn't mouse-mail quicker and more direct?

The receded hairline that Graves' was currently glaring at didn't seem appropriately cowed.

He was ready to turn on his heels when the man pushed a brown folder towards him, the MACUSA sel of approval stamped in blue ink on top of it but with no other indication of what was inside it.

"Any changes to an already submitted Form 42.3 can only mean an intent to submit Form 3/1."

 

_Form 3/1? Which one was it again?_

 

Graves looked at the folder and opened it. As the first page of the contents was revealed, he froze. Written black on white on that page was...

 

_"...the MACUSA employee requests the medical expertise..."_  
"...with the intent of expanding the family nucleus..."  
"...upon prior submission and approval of form 42.3..." 

 

Form 3/1 was the request for authorization to get access to the Graviditate Spell and there it sat before him, already signed and approved. This was a three months jump forward to his and his lover's dream of a family.

When he looked up he found Bernstein looking at him.

"Consider it an apology for what happened. The paperwork Grindelwald submitted during those five months was abysmal and the intern corrected them but didn't put out an alert. He has been removed from the 3rd floor."

The man was lucky he hadn't been dismembered and the pieces hid between registries.

"It needs the carrier's name and to be signed by the couple or family group involved and then it is ready to be filed."

"I-" choked Graves, "I am in your debt. Thank you."

The glint that entered the old man's eyes after that sentence was suspicious and if Graves had seen on anyone else out of the streets, he would have immediately started pursuit. Was he wrong in offering a debt? A wizard's word was his vow, but he'd been so elated about those papers that he didn't think. The head archivist extended his hand and took back the folder and started to browse the pages.

"Do not worry, I will not ask for much, only that you wait one week before sending it back to us for filing," smiled the old man, turning the form once again on a specific page and offering him a quill with knobbly fingers.

 

**Name of the Person undergoing Graviditate Procedure: ___________________________________**

 

Graves furrowed his brow. One week of delay was nothing over the three months he would have waited for it, but why would Bernstein need the name of the carr...

"Aversham up at Accounting is so sure that it's going to be the Obscurial that he bet his family's old letter seal."

Betting pools were highly illegal but not a day passed that somewhere in MACUSA someone bet on something (Graves was guilty himself, especially in his early days, his pay would be cut in half even before entering his pockets) and within a couple of hours everything was organized to perfection, down to probability statistics. Such an efficient system would need set procedures, sure and inconspicuous ways to make news travel, people to deal with the logistics, people good with numbers who had a lot of time and space. And a department so unwelcoming no one would go in unless forced.

 

Fires of Salem.

 

"Saying it was an apology gift was a nice touch" swallowed Graves taking the quill.

"You are a man of honour, Director Graves, and that seal has such an elegant design."

The old man had sprung quite the trap on him and he had fallen for it like a first year trainee. He couldn't help but admire the poise of the man in front of him, not a wrinkle had moved, no sign of jubilance other than that irritating glint in his eye. Intelligence and ruthlessness without arrogance. Such a deadly combination.

He quickly wrote down his name on the dotted line and put the quill back on its stand.

 

"You," stated Bernstein after some seconds.

 

Graves closed the brown folder and put it under his arm.

"Me. What would you have lost in that bet?" asked Graves before turning back and aiming towards the exit.

As he heard the raucous laughter following him from the darkness of the hallway, Graves swore he would never make another bet in his life again. Ever.


End file.
